


Fresh Start

by sceawere



Category: Peaky Blinders (TV)
Genre: Allusions to abortion, Angst with a Happy Ending, Arguing, Breaking Up & Making Up, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Idiots in Love, Marriage Proposal, Workplace Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-12
Updated: 2019-10-12
Packaged: 2020-12-13 22:11:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21004976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sceawere/pseuds/sceawere
Summary: Written as a request: Michael is dating a girl who works for Shelby Co. but messes it up. He gets with Charlotte, but then that goes tits up as well. Him and reader end up giving it another go, with him proposing all over the shop.-“We start over. From the beginning. You want to marry me, you’ve got to date me first”“I did that” he replied, unimpressed.“Yeah, and then you fucked it up. So, get ready to put some work into it, mister” you smirked down at him.He smiled, and huffed a laugh, reaching up to weave his fingers into yours.“You thought I was saying never?” you asked, and he nodded. You tilted your head, softening your eyes “I’m not saying never. I just want to do this right. I think we need a fresh start”“A fresh start” he agreed.





	Fresh Start

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written as a request in Nov 2017. My Michael fics have been getting a lot of re-reads recently and it reminded me that I need to upload them all here, so enjoy!

“We still on for tonight?” Michael murmured into your hair. You laughed, keeping your eyes to the documents laid out before you as he wrapped his arms around your waist.

“Mr Shelby has asked me to cover Mary’s shift so- “ you trailed off.

He groaned, unwrapping himself from you, and sitting on the desk beside where you were working. You looked up to him in the space between turning pages, then back to the words.

“What’s the point in running the office if I don’t even get to give my favourite girl the night off?” he complained.

“You can try to be my boss or my boyfriend, but not both” you explained, shuffling the sheets back into a pile and slipping them into a folder. You closed it up and offered it to him, “Import receipts”

He kept eyes with you for a moment, before sighing. He took his hands out of his pockets, took the folder from you, and left after a quick peck on the cheek.

-

You took steps slowly, head ducked while pulling your coat on as you went. One of the arms had tucked into itself and it was being stubborn. You finally punched your arm through, pulling the coat around yourself with a huff. A laugh made you look up.

“Don’t” you warned.

“You can’t even dress yourself. I don’t know what I see in you” Michael smiled, and you shook your head.

“Shut up” you leant against the car next to him as he finished his smoke. “You waited out here for me?”

“I don’t like you walking about by yourself at night” he murmured, blowing smoke out into the cold air. It melded with the forming fog, dancing around each other in puffs and waves. You watched it dissipate into the darkness, blinking in the biting breeze.

“And yet, somehow, I managed to survive the better part of a couple decades without you” you argued.

He threw the stub away from himself, turning to grab your face. You laughed into the kiss as he backed you up against the car.

“Come on, I’m taking you out tonight” he insisted.

-

A cool breeze woke you up. It must have been early, the first dregs of light peeking through the slit in the curtains. You scrunched up with a hum, tucking further into Michael’s side, trying to eliminate the draft. He shuffled himself, tucking you under his chin.

“Time is it?” he mumbled, words rolling together in his groggy state.

“D’know” you replied, grumbling when he jostled you. He sat up, running hands through his hair. You untucked a hand from the blankets, placing it on his back, working your way round to his side. He looked back over his shoulder with a smile, rolling to hover over you.

“Morning” he whispered, pecking a kiss to your lips.

“Good morning”

“I need a cigarette” he complained, getting straight up and heading for the fireplace. You scoffed and tucked yourself back into the warm blankets he left behind, watching him potter about. He collected the tin off the mantle, then went to fish his lighter out of his pocket. He rifled around for a few moments, tried the next one, turned the jacket over.

He looked up and around the room, unlit cigarette perched in his mouth as he frowned. “Where the fucks my lighter?”

You made a mumbled noise, coupled with a shrug. “You had it at the pub?”

He sighed, making his way back to bed. He hooked a finger through the bedside drawer pull and fumbled about for a match.

“I better make myself scarce before your mum wakes up” you mumbled, sitting up in the bed. You looked around for your dress, having been sober enough to thankfully don Michael’s now crumpled shirt before falling asleep.

“She already knows you’re here. This is Polly we’re talking about” he replied, dropping to the edge of the bed. He rolled his neck as you knelt behind him, draping an arm over one shoulder, and perching your chin to the other.

“Still. I don’t want her to think…” you trailed off and he dipped his head, so he could see you out the corner of his eye.

“Think what?” he questioned, and you bit your lip.

“Think…you know”

He pulled on a smile slowly, shaking his head slightly. “It’s early in the morning and I’m still a bit drunk”

You laughed, rolling your eyes as you pulled a blanket up behind you. You wrapped it up around your back, pooling it at either side of his thighs. The heat rolled off his back, melting into your chest as you snuggled back into him. You must have looked like a shell, clinging to his back.

“I want her to like me. I want her to think I’m…a good girl for her son, you know” you admitted, voice a little timid.

“She already loves you. She loved you before she loved me” he laughed, taking another long draw.

“That’s not true!”

“Well, she knew you better at least” he acquiesced.

“She kept an eye out for me, that’s all” you admitted “And I mean like me as…being with you. Not just…I already know she likes me as a person. But, being around her son, like this. It’s different. It’s different her looking out for me and her thinking I’m right for you, is what I mean”

“I don’t think you have to worry. You were like the daughter she never got to raise” he cleared his throat, head dipped as you tried to work through a response in your brain “I don’t mean that you were- she didn’t just take you on because- “

“I know what you mean. I don’t feel like a replacement, don’t worry” you shuffled a little in place, wiggling your knees on either side of his hips “this would feel very weird if that’s what I thought”

He chuckled to himself a little and you joined after a moment.

“I bet she loves this. Me and you. I bet she loves that I picked her favourite girl” he said, voice grating with sleep as he took one last proper drag.

You rolled your head on his shoulder as he turned towards you, still too close to look at each other properly. You dipped foreheads together as best you could, Michael eventually shifting so he could lay back and you could place your head on his lap.

“Is that what you did? You picked me?” you looked down at him with a raised brow.

He smirked for a moment, smashing the stub against the metal bed frame before throwing it, extinguished, towards the fireplace.

“Picked me for what?” you whispered, biting your lip. He looked down at you, eyes heavy. He still looked half asleep, even after walking around in the cold air. He hesitated, and you waited, watching the cogs turn in his brain.

“You’re never going to say it, are you?” you said, half teasing, half disappointed.

He sighed, licking his lips as he looked away.

“It’s alright” you breathed, lifting yourself and unwrapping the blankets from your legs.

“I- “

“It’s really alright, Michael” you cut him off, walking over to where your dress was strewn over a chair. You shuffled his shirt off as quick as possible, swapping it for your clothes as you hurried to shut in the heat. He followed you over, standing before you as you lifted yourself up onto the dresser. You rolled one stocking over your foot, wiggling it up. You avoided his eyes.

“You working today? We can stop at yours and pick up some fresh- “

“No, I swapped with Mary. She said if I covered last night, she’d do today's, so. I’m just…going to go home, I think” you finished adjusting each leg, slipping forward off the counter top. Michael lifted a hand to your hip and you sighed.

“I’m just not used to- “he started.

“I know, Michael. I know. I just…need a little more, I think” you admitted, trying to smile but ending up what was more like grimacing. He kept his eyes low, the both of you not comfortable at all with this conversation “It’s getting to the point where I need to know if this is something or not. Because, if it’s not something, I think it’s needs to be nothing. I want ‘something’. And if that’s not what this is for you, then I understand, but it’s best if I find someone who does want that and I…”

The silence settled between you both, neither knowing how to break it.

“Come on, let’s be honest with each other. I don’t think you want a nice, quiet, domestic life, do you?” you laughed, blinking rapidly as your eyes began to sting “Mr Shelby’s clearly training you up to be his successor and I don’t think I’m part of that plan, honestly. I don’t think I’d fit into that life very well. I’m…a bit of a wimp, really”

The two of you shared a bitter laugh.

“I need someone a little less, and I think you need someone a little more, maybe” you trailed off, letting the words hang in the air “I love…fuck…I love when I’m with you. I love…how you make me feel. I love your fucking smile at two in the morning and I wish that alone was enough, but it’s not”

He nodded, jaw steeled, as he kept his eyes to the floor. You reached up and wiped away a tear as quickly as it appeared, biting into your lip to keep any from following.

“Yeah, you should…” he lifted his head, wiping off his face “I should let you go. Uhhh…I’ll ring for a car, and you can- “

“It’s alright”

“No, I want you…I don’t like you walking around by yourself” he turned away from you, and headed straight out of the room.

-

“God, the two of you” Polly shook her head.

“Pol, can we not go over this again?” you begged, turning with a dress in hand.

“No, I’ll never understand it” she took the hanger you handed her, comparing it to the dress she held in her other hand. She flicked her eyes back and forth a dozen times “No, too much”

You raised your brows, watching as the woman who worked in the shop took them both away.

“Too much? Polly?” you teased, and she shot you a look.

“It’s my nephews fucking wedding, don’t get smart with me”

“No, I just…don’t think I’ve ever seen you make a…resigned choice before. Polly Gray, choosing something less than. It’s truly a new day”

“Speaking of choosing something less than” she retorted, and you groaned.

“Oh, dear God”

She shot you another look and you sighed.

“I hate to possibly shatter your loving mother’s image of your son, but- “you abandoned the dresses you were perusing, following her around aimlessly “he’s not the easiest to be with”

“You always seemed to be getting along well” she laid a dress out over the counter and you grimaced.

“This feels inappropriate”

She donned the ghost of a smile, rolling her eyes back down to the dress.

“What about this one?”

You gave it a once over, considering. “I like it. It’s…you”

She hummed, motioning over to the woman at the front counter. She turned to you, eyes burning into your face. “What happened? Really?”

You paused, swallowing, thinking.

“We’re just different people, at different times.

He’s done the whole ‘domestic bliss in the country house’ thing and it doesn’t sit right with him. He wants the city, and the excitement, and he wants to be the boss and live the life, you know?

And I’m the opposite, I’ve done that bit, I’ve had my wild years and I want to start working towards my nice quiet life and…he’s heading into the party, and I’m leaving it. And we can’t hover together in the doorway forever, one of us must step away. One of us is always going to be unhappy, whatever we choose”

“And now both of you are unhappy” she replied.

“I think he’s doing just fine” you sighed.

“I know my son. And I know you. Neither of you are happier for this, trust me” she stepped away, and you made to follow “I always know”

“What do you know Polly?” you asked, “tell me what’s going to happen next, then?”

“You’re going to turn up to Tommy’s wedding, the both of you, and it’s going to knock sense into you”

You burst out laughing, turning away from her as she sorted out the account.

“No, you are. The both of you are going to realise it should be you up there soon and- “

“Polly! Stop!”

“It should be you” she replied, sincere. You sobered up, looking through the window behind her to avoid her stare “You make him happy. He loves you. And I know its returned. God knows, the two of you deserve a bit of that. You’re just scared. You’re barely out of being kids, the pair of you, and it’s big and scary. But it’s wonderful. Give it some time”

You dipped your head, letting your hair fall around you as you sniffed and fidgeted, counting the seconds until this was over.

“You’re not heading in opposite directions. If one of you is heading up, and one down, meet in the damn middle. Compromise, sweetheart. You want a nice, domestic life, that’s something you’re going to have to get used to” she teased, and you looked up at the ceiling, before looking over to her.

“Yeah, because your family is amazing at compromise” you pointed out and she smirked back at you “honestly, a true example to the world”

“Come on, let’s find you something” she turned you around, put hands on each shoulder, and marched you back towards the dresses.

-

It was freezing out here, sat on the steps. But it was quiet. Or at least, quieter than anywhere you could find inside. And it was away from everyone. You needed space, air.

A flick from behind you, the sound of a lighter striking up. Shuffling steps.

“It’s late” Michael said, blowing smoke out into the air.

“Did someone die tonight?” you asked, barely above a whisper. He paused in the corner of your eye, took another drag before he spoke.

“I think so” he admitted.

“I heard the shot” you whispered, brow pulling tight as the echo rang out in your mind once more.

He paused, shuffling his stance. “Yeah”

“Yeah” your repeated, staring straight out at the speck of light in the woods. Your stomach turned. You waited.

“If I go upstairs, am I going to run into her?” you asked after minutes of silence.

You heard him sigh as you stood.

“No, she already left with- “

“Good” you replied, turning and going back into the house. He called your name, running after you. You turned on a swing at the bottom of the stairs, making sure to lower your voice.

“Grace looked beautiful today, and I don’t want to ruin her day by having a screaming match in the lobby of her house. So, if you have anything to say, which I sincerely hope you don’t, you can save it until the fucking morning” you spat back at him, heading up the stairs without waiting for a reply.

“You chose this” he replied, trying to keep his voice low.

“I didn’t fucking choose this, Michael, fuck off”

“You chose to leave, and I- “you span around again, almost running into him, and toppling him back down the stairs.

“Chose to fuck a stranger at a family fucking wedding, knowing I was in the house. Nice. It’s been what, a month? I didn’t expect you to confine yourself in grief for life, Michael, I wouldn’t want you to. But I’d hope you’d show some fucking respect and at least try to be discreet” you shook your head, smirking off to the side “You know, your mum had me doubting myself. Well, if there was any doubt before, it’s gone now”

“Oh, mum, of course” he whispered to himself.

“She thinks you’re madly in love with me and I just need to give you time to mature and then we’ll live happily ever after”

He scoffed, stepping up to the landing. You shuffled back to allow him space.

“I think that’s wishful thinking on her part”

“Yeah” you turned, walking down the hallway “tell me about it”

-

“-and I didn’t think anything of it, only Michael was there” Mary rattled off.

You were only half paying attention, eyes focused on the numbers before you; numbers you were sure were off somehow. It took a few seconds of continued silence before you looked up, realising Mary was leaning towards you, eyes wide and quizzical.

“Sorry, I got distracted. What was happening?”

“I went to see my cousin, who lives up by the bridge?” she repeated, and you nodded, confused as to why any of this was relevant “And I saw…I saw Michael coming out of the- you know, the house opposite”

You paused, words knitting together in your head. Mary leant back into her seat, the two of you opposite sides of the same cramped desk. She watched as one of the men walked passed, before throwing a worried look to you. You flicked a look up to Michael's office door, across the floor, before floating your gaze around.

“The…” you cleared your throat “house with the blue windows, yeah?”

“Yes. It’s probably business or- “

“Yeah, it’s business” you spat as you pushed the folder away from you, and leant back in your own chair. Your hand raised to wipe a finger over your lips, back and forth, back and forth.

“Oh, God. I shouldn’t have told you, why did I do that? I just thought…” she shook her head, eyes wide and shining “It felt like I was keeping a secret from you and I didn’t want to be...weird about it”

“It’s fine, Mary” you replied, rolling your lip through your teeth.

“I’m so sorry”

You rolled your eyes up to her, scanning the creased pain on her face.

“Why would you be sorry for me?” you reached to flick the folder closed, pinching it between fingers as you rose “It’s none of my business”

You stepped over to the office door, laying quick taps with your knuckles on the glass. He didn’t answer but you could see his still form through the frosted glass, so you toed the door open and closed again. You slapped the folder down on the desk in front of him. He barely blinked, eyes boring into the wall.

“You can’t let it get to your work” you whispered, eyes tracing the shadows under his own. He cleared his throat, lowered the cigarette he’d been allowing to burn down, and reached for the folder.

“What did I do?”

“I think you counted one shipment twice, and forgot another in it’s place. Look” you moved around the desk, perched next to him as you tapped the offending entries.

“Fuck, I know which I missed” he leant forward and sorted through a stack of papers in a tray, setting to work in overwriting the data. You stayed where you were, watching him work like you used to.

“You can’t let it get to your work”

“Let what get to my work?” he mumbled, head down.

“Ada and Polly think two break ups in a year is what’s getting to you but we both know you’re not that sentimental” you teased, and he scoffed “I’ve only been there once but…I remember she was nice, if that helps”

He sighed, crossing through numbers rapidly, eyes flicking back and forth through columns and columns.

“Who was nice?” he droned out, tone bored.

“The woman that does it. Charlotte would’ve been fine” you whispered out again, and he stalled. He moved his head in your direction, but didn’t look up from the paper.

“How do you- “

“It was someone we can trust, they’ll keep it between us, don’t worry”

He dropped the pen, and sat back in the chair. He clenched his jaw, eyes searching the wall again.

“When have you been- “he squinted up at you and you rolled your eyes, cutting in.

“I never had sisters, but I had friends that were close as. And sometimes, they’d find themselves in a position where they'd need to go to the house with the blue windows, and they would need me to hold their hand and see they got home safe, alright? I had your mum to look out for me and make sure I never got that way, not all the girls round here are lucky as that. And even if I had closer knowledge of it than that...none of your business, Mikey”

He dropped his eyes, running his tongue over his lip with a shallow nod. You shuffled on the edge of the desk.

“I had no right to ask, I’m sorry” he replied after a moment and you looked down at him.

“Well, that was mature of you. I’m pleasantly surprised. Maybe Tommy isn’t rubbing off on you after all”

He smiled just a little, just enough. You tucked your head in, and pushed off from the desk.

“Take those straight to Lizzie when you’re done” you pointed to the folders he was editing, making for the door.

“Sit with me?” he asked, as you gripped the handle. You turned over your shoulder, brows furrowed “Please? Like we used to?”

You pushed your shoulder into the door, mind working as you considered whether it was a good idea or not.

“Yeah, alright. Just let me get some work to do. Can’t have us both slacking, can we?” you joked, smiling when he did.

-

“Michael, I- oh” Polly barrelled into the room, pausing when she saw the two of you “Sorry for interrupting”

You and Michael looked at each over the desk, and you couldn’t help the smile that pulled onto your face at the roll of his eyes. You tucked your head, trying to hide your laugh, as you finished stamping the documents he passed you.

“What is it, mother?” Michael droned, sighing slightly as he passed you the final piece of paper.

“It’s nearly ten o’clock. I was wondering if I should send for a car or if you’re sleeping in here tonight?”

You couldn’t hold your laugh back any more at the teasing tone she used, letting out a little squeak before breaking down.

“Don’t encourage her, please” Michael scolded, rising from his seat “We’re done, mother. I already rang for a car five minutes ago”

“I hope he fed you?” Polly asked, and you nodded to her, stacking the folders neatly before you. You hooked your hands under them, leaning back a little to lift and secure them against your body as you exited the office.

“He sent Finn to get Chinese food for us”

“Oh, did he?” she asked, pressing back against the door frame to let you pass.

“She likes the rice with the…doesn’t matter” you heard Michael whisper behind you. They were leant on opposite sides of the door when you turned back around, Polly staring at him, then you. The massive smirk on her face made you tilt your head and stare her down.

“So, you two are back on speaking terms?” she motioned between the two of you with a finger, bringing it to perch on her lips as she looked you over.

“We’re being professional, mother” Michael replied, reaching into the office to pull his coat out. He pulled the door shut behind them both, walking over to the door.

“Oh, is that what it is?” she sidled up to you as you pulled your coat on and followed Michael out, show-whispering to you “you both looked pretty cosy to me”

You rolled your eyes, joining her laugh at the annoyed look Michael shot you both as he held the door for you both.

-

Michael was stood in your entryway, edged in blood. He was staring straight through you, down the hall as though he was hollow, a statue in the shadows.

“Michael…” you reached up with shaking fingers, hovering your hands over his cheek. Too scared to touch him in case he shattered.

“I killed the priest” he murmured.

“Oh, fucking Christ”

You pulled him into the house, closing the door as quickly but quietly as you could. You turned off the lamp in the hallway, so the two of you were plunged into nothing but shadows.

“Michael- “

“I got Charlie home, I gave him to Ada, and mum, and I- “ his words came out in a hazed, panicked mumble.

“Ok, that’s ok” you shushed him as he started to stumble and splutter, hands framing his face as lightly as you could, while still reassuring. You cast a quick look up to the landing when the floorboards settled, but there was no-one there.

“Come on” you reached down for his hand, pulling him up the stairs with you, and shuffling him into the bedroom “the rest of the girls are in, so we need to be quiet, alright?”

He nodded, even though you weren’t sure if he was taking anything you said in, or just responding to the sound of your voice. You swiped a hand down the side of his face, then around the side of his neck as you leaned into him. You tucked your head into the other side of his neck, nuzzling at his collar. There was more blood here, and it turned your stomach, but you rolled your eyes up and pretended you didn’t see it. Michael needed you to be strong right now. You needed to be strong right now.

“I’m going to go check they’re asleep and then we’ll get sorted, yeah?” you whispered to him, and he nodded again, in the same way. You pulled back, looked up to him. He was staring behind you at the wall, barely blinking. You leaned forward and pressed a light kiss to his jaw, then another, and another. His hand clenched where it had been hovering at your side, fingers weaving into your nightie. His arm flopped down as you walked away.

The lights were out under all the bedroom doors and you leaned against the wall for a moment to take advantage of the privacy it offered. You clenched your hand over your mouth, eyes screwed up as you heaved breath in through your nose and tried not to make any noise. It took a few minutes, but you collected yourself, and took a deep breath to set you steady. You walked down the hall, lifted the rickety window that opened into the alley, and leaned out into the space. You jiggled the window on the other side, gave a quick knock, and waited.

A sleepy face emerged behind the net curtains, quizzing eyes peeking through the gap, until they lifted, and then the window along with it.

“Can you make a call for me, please?” you asked the girl on the other side. A group of you Shelby Co. girls had split between these two houses. They were close to work, and close to each other, a shared space of understanding. You shared other things too, including a phone, which was inconveniently located in the other house, and so leaning out of windows into alleys in the middle of the night was sometimes needed.

“Mr Shelby or Mrs Gray?” she whispered, obviously still trying to engage her brain.

“Polly, try the office first. Tell her...fuck I don’t know. Tell her ‘he came home’ and tell her to send someone to sit in a car on the street, please?”

“Shit, are we fucked? Is it bad? Should I tell Shelly to get her gun out?” she asked, slightly more alert, gesturing behind her to the dark room.

You gasped a laugh, trying not to look down to the drop below as you manoeuvred carefully back into your own house.

“Should I?” she insisted, as you pulled the window back down. You shook your head and she sighed, disappearing back through the pane.

“I’m sure this isn’t worth those extra shillings” you muttered, walking back down the hall carefully, avoiding the creaky boards “I should have gone for that job in the paper factory”

-

“I’m sorry” Michael whispered, breaking the silence you’d both been stewing in. Steam was still rising from the bath, and you couldn’t tell if the mist forming on the ceiling was from that or from the cigarette he’d just lit. Probably the cigarette, given that it was his third since you’d entered the bathroom. You adjusted your neck where it was resting on the curve of the bath, your back up against the side, legs crossed on the tiles before you.

The water rippled and pattered as he lifted his hand over the edge, to swipe a finger down your jawline.

“Sorry for which bit?” you questioned.

“All of it”

You swallowed, and lifted your head, turning to meet his eyes.

“Marry me” he whispered, and suddenly the roles were reversed. You stared at him, through him, still as a statue. There was a smear of watered down blood on the ceramic behind him that caught your eye, and you began to snigger. Michael looked confused, then concerned, as you descended into a muffled mixture of sobs and laughter.

The water sloshed as he sat up, and dropped the cigarette over the edge of the bath into the soap dish you’d commandeered for an ash tray.

“Fucking Christ on a three-wheel bicycle” you whispered, through your laughter so it came out a vague screeching, breathy mix of syllables. You pushed up as he reached for you, and almost crawled over to the sink. You stood in an awkward, spluttered movement, almost catching your dressing gown under your knees, and then your feet, and started sloshing cool water over your face. Michael was horrified as you turned around, still leaning over the edge of the tub. You swiped the sleeve of your dressing grown over your face, and rested back against the cool basin.

“Fucking hell, Michael. You turn up at my door in the middle of the night, having committed a murder, and then you propose in my bathtub? Did you forget we broke up? Did you forget that you slept with someone else? For like six months? And that we never got back together?”

He sat back in the tub and you sobered up a little.

“You just proposed to me” you repeated, stunned.

“Yes. And you laughed” he lit up another cigarette, and then almost immediately slid down to dunk under the water, keeping his hand aloft. He stayed in so long you wondered if he was trying to drown himself and get it over with, but he eventually flew up, gasping, only to take a long draw.

“Why did you just do that?” you asked, tone accusatory, as if he’d come at you with a knife, rather than an offer of marriage.

“Because I fucking love you!” he shouted, and you lurched forward, shushing. You knelt beside the tub, and he turned his head to you, the water dripping from his brow making the angry look on his face almost comical.

“Don’t” he warned, pointing at you, cigarette in hand, as you bit your lip to keep from laughing again.

“This is fucking ridiculous” you broke out laughing, dropping your arm where it was hooked over the tub into the water. You lay your head on the other arm, convulsing with laughter. He groaned, the slosh of water indicating he’d sat back again, and then he started laughing as well.

“Michael…” you lifted your head “Michael Gray. You…utter…mess of a man”

He took another drag, lifted a brow in agreement, and smirked as he exhaled, the two of you laughing. You trailed your finger down the side of his thigh under the water, resting your chin lightly on the other elbow where it lay at the edge of the tub. He dropped his cigarette down into the soap dish again, bringing his now free hand up to cup the side of your head.

“I love you” you murmured back, and his eyes softened to the point you assumed he was going to cry.

“Marry me” he asked again, and you shook your head.

“No”

He sighed, disappointed. He looked over to the frosted window and you sat up, shimmying off your dressing gown that was all bundled up to keep it from the water. You stood just enough to perch on the edge of the tub, hooking fingers under his chin.

“We start over. From the beginning. You want to marry me, you’ve got to date me first”

“I did that” he replied, unimpressed.

“Yeah, and then you fucked it up. So, get ready to put some work into it, mister” you smirked down at him.

He smiled, and huffed a laugh, reaching up to weave his fingers into yours.

“You thought I was saying never?” you asked, and he nodded. You tilted your head, softening your eyes “I’m not saying never. I just want to do this right. I think we need a fresh start”

“A fresh start” he agreed.

There was a light knock at the door, and the two of you froze.

“I don’t want to interrupt what sounds like a lovely reconciliation. But I’m busting for a wee, if you’re done…” Mary’s voice came through the door and Michael dropped his head as you rolled your lips between your teeth “Sorry, the doors are thin”

“Yeah, hang on a sec, Mare” you called out, stepping away from the tub to throw Michael a fresh towel.

“I can run next door?” she offered, voice faltering.

“She’s too sweet to work at Shelby, Michael, she’s too sweet” you whispered to him as he let the tub out, swiping away the odd trail of blood that remained.

He swung the door open, clearing his throat.

“Apologies, Mary” he said, walking passed her. You followed after him, pulling your dressing gown after you. She gave an excited little bounce as you passed, and a big smile, before running into the bathroom and slamming the door quickly behind her.

You slapped a hand to Michael’s back, hurrying him into the bedroom.

-

You dropped down into the chair, sighing heavily into the cool room.

“Hey” Michael whispered as you leaned forward over the table.

“I hate this” you whispered back, fingers weaving into his tightly.

“I know” he replied, swiping a quick look up at what you assumed was the guard behind you.

“I lost my rag with Tommy yesterday” you explained, one knee bouncing nervously over the other under the table. Michael smirked a little.

“You’re calling him Tommy now?”

“Well, he’s going to be my cousin too, soon. Plus, he put you in prison, so I did away with the honorific bullshit. I felt that was right” you replied.

“He won’t be your cousin until you marry me” Michael said, running his tongue over his dry lip “So, marry me”

“No”

He sighed, rolled his eyes, but laughed anyway.

“That’s five times you’ve denied me so far”

“I’m not marrying you until you’re cleared and free. We said fresh start” you made a show of looking behind you at the guards and the bars “this is not a fresh start”

“They’re intervening at the appeal in January, once that happens it’s all over, and done with. We can have a spring wedding”

“I love you” you insisted, and he squeezed his fingers in yours.

“I love you, too” he paused for a few moments and you tilted your head, a warning “Marry me”

“Michael!”

-

“Polly!” you screamed down the hallway, ignoring the nurses that turned to shush you as you passed “Mum?!”

You looked into each room as you passed, no sign of Michael, or any of the family. You caught sight of a smear of blood on the wall and let out a cry, your feet never stopping in their quick pace.

“Sweetheart” Polly emerged from one of the rooms, Tommy and Arthur soon after, and you collapsed into her.

“Mum, where is he? Where is he?”

“He’s in there, he’s alright” Arthur explained, brushing a hand over the back of your head. You turned your head, and looked through the glass, catching sight of them working on Michael. There was a mass of doctors, and nurses, a flurry of activity like bees round a hive. Blood was trickling to the floor, patches of pale and red-speckled skin flashing in and out of vision as they moved around him.

“Mum…”

She brought frantic, grasping hands up to frame your face, and you tried your best to focus your weeping eyes on hers.

“He’s going to survive. I know it. I’ve seen it. There’s no spirits around him” she explained, and you nodded, grateful for her new folly for once.

“I know he will, I know he will” you sobbed, grasping your own hands over hers.

-

“Mrs Gray?” one of the nurses whispered, as she carefully placed a cup of steaming tea on the bedside table. You straightened your back from where you’d been bent to rest your head on the mattress beside Michael's hand.

“Oh, thank you…Doreen, right?”

“Yes, Mrs Gray”

“Thank you, Doreen” you smiled, and she stepped away, leaving you to stretch and roll the sleep away.

“Where’s mine?” Michael rasped, and you smiled, opening your eyes slowly.

“Sharing is an important part of marriage, Michael. What’s mine is yours” you rested your elbow on the mattress, and your head on your fist. He lifted a finger, trailing it on your arm.

“I want to go and see John” he mumbled, his voice grating.

You shook your head softly. “You can’t, my love”

“I can make it downstairs, surely?”

“They don’t think it’s a good idea” you explained.

“I’ll still be in the hospital, if anything happens- “you shook your head and he sighed, gripping his jaw.

“I won’t be able to go to the funeral, I want to say goodbye”

You sighed, bringing your free hand over to wrap around his. He looked down at your melded fingers, his thumb rolling over your wedding band.

“Alright, I’ll see what we can do. Maybe tonight, when there’s less staff around, we can have the lads wheel you down in a chair or something”

He nodded, his head dropping back as he grimaced in pain.

“Rest” you reached up and swiped a hand over his brow “I’ll be here when you wake up, we can talk then”

“I’ve slept enough”

“You’re healing, you can’t sleep enough”

“Don’t argue with me. I’m injured” he scowled, but still smirking slightly. You rolled your eyes and shook your head. You unhooked your hands, and he peeked an eye open as you crawled onto the bed beside him, tucking yourself up to his side. You helped him sit up a bit more, and turned to bring the cup of tea to rest on your thigh.

“It’s like being at home, isn’t it?” you joked, blowing air over the surface of the steaming liquid. He gave a quick, grating chuckle, before dipping his chin to take a sip of the tea you offered him.

“I need a cigarette”

“Well, wait until your mum gets here, then. She’ll cave in quicker than I will” you took a sip after he did “hmm, that’s actually good stuff. Doreen can make a cup. She’s got a bright future if she ever wants to give this nursing malarkey up”

“Who the fucks Doreen?” he asked, twisting with a grimace and a hiss to fish into the side of the mattress. You scowled, confused, until he pulled his hand up. A crumpled cigarette, and a scratched-up lighter were tucked in his palm, and you tutted as you swiped them away.

“Is that Arthur leaving that there?”

“Finn. He’s a good lad” he groaned as you spun the lighter in hand “Please, my adoring wife. Take pity on me”

You stared at each other for a moment, you continuously spinning the metal round and round.

“Fine, but only because you look all helpless and adorable” you stuck the cigarette in his mouth and flicked the lighter, moving to tuck it back down between the mattress and the frame.

“I knew I married you for something” he joked, and you rolled your eyes again. You settled down beside him, tucking yourself carefully into his side. He pinched the smoke between his lips, so he could pull the blanket over your legs, adjusting to try and get comfortable.

“Watch your tubey thing” you warned as he craned his arm away from the bed to flick the ash away.

“My tubey thing” he acknowledged.

“Yes. Your tubey thing” you whispered, tracing a continuous circle over his heart “I love you”

“I love you too” he murmured, taking a deep, scratching breath.

“I want to put new wallpaper up in the bedroom” you mumbled.

“Yeah?”

“Hmmm. It needs some colour in there. I found some nice bronze and blue…it’s almost gold when the light catches it” you explained.

“Sounds nice”

“You don’t give a fuck, do you?” you asked.

“Am I still going to have a place to sleep?”

“Yes”

“Then no, I don’t give a fuck” he blew a giant cloud of smoke out and you gave a mock cough. He gave a quick laugh, smiling down at you “I’m sure it’s lovely, pick whatever you want. I trust you”

“Alright” you put your head back down on his shoulder “I’m going to do the garden up a bit as well”

You lay together in the quiet for a while, the bustle of the hospital continuing through the glass window, like watching a play from the comfort of the bed.

The seconds of silence stretched out before you spoke again.

“When I’ve done the garden, can we get chickens?”

“No, we fucking can’t” he insisted, taking a long drag.


End file.
